


Higher Than The Sun

by GetOutOFMyTreeNovice



Series: Gods and swords [1]
Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Altair is persistant, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Anal Sex, Demons, Fictional mythos, Fighting, Follower!Altair, God!Malik, Love, M/M, Malik is a moody god, Oral Sex, Other, Riding, Sacrifices, Sex, Shapeshifting, There's alot of rough tossing around, Topping from the Bottom, a bit of body worship, but not really graphic violence, celestial sex, praying, the fight scene isn't detailed, there's alot of fire, torture and death threats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2015-01-30
Packaged: 2018-02-03 06:00:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1733702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GetOutOFMyTreeNovice/pseuds/GetOutOFMyTreeNovice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malik, the god of swords and war, is rumored to reward the one who wins his favor greatly. The only problem is Malik is bitter and vicious and might take more than a few sacrifices to win him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fire

Altair took seven small gold trinkets up to the alter today, wondering if the gods would like his sacrifice today. Hopefully one god in particular, the golden revered god Malik. King of swords and war, a bitter god who favored no one. And whoever did win his favor, it's rumored that he would receive riches and treasure beyond any man has ever seen. 

One item in particular Altair hoped would catch the god's eye. It was a dagger made purely of gold with onyx and rubies embedded in its hilt. He'd found it in a raid and was saving it for this purpose. 

Altair set the other things on the alter first, whispering the traditional rites, along with his own praise. He knelt down before placing the dagger, stating who it was for and then reciting the rites again. He waited with his head bowed for several minutes, praying to his god. Nothing. Again. Altair sighed and stood up, turning to leave. 

“If you really wanted my favor, you wouldn't give up so soon, mortal.” A growling voice startled Altair and he turned around again. The voice could only be one god. Altair bowed his head and knelt before him. 

“Malik. Forgive me, King of swords. I meant no disrespect. I've waited a long time for this.” Altair said, swallowing. Malik was golden, glorious. He had burning near black eyes that Altair glanced at once and avoided since. He was an angry god. 

“You're an arrogant one, Altair. The Flying one. To think you deserve my favor. I could crush you in my hand, annihilate you with one look. What have you to offer me? A few pretty things. What about your wings, little bird? How about I snip them and pin you down to the earth? I can see your soul. Maybe I should rip it from you for such arrogance.” The War god hissed, his power pressing down on Altair, making his skin jump and the breath to leave his lungs. 

“I would be of no use to you without wings.” Altair said. Malik laughed harshly, making Altair burn. 

“You're of no use to me now.” The god said harshly. Altair looked up and gasped at the sight of him again, stunned into submission for the second time. Dark bronze skin with bands of gold around his strong arms and thin gold chains decorating his bare chest. His eyes had an unearthly glow and his face was in a constant scowl. He was beautiful. 

“I could be. If you told me what it is I could do to be useful to you.” Altair prayed that was the right thing to say. Malik laughed lowly and Altair felt him approach. The god's heat was radiant and constant, like sitting in direct sunlight in the summer. 

“Such arrogance. I should take you on the floor like the beast you really are. Fuck the arrogance out of you.” Malik grabbed Altair's chin and forced him to look up at the god. Altair stared at him with his mouth open, heat pooling in his gut. 

“If it would please you.” Altair breathed. The God's expression changed and then tightened his grip on Altair's chin. 

“Such arrogance.. strip yourself. Let me see if you're worthy of my attention.” Malik ordered, his power flaring. Altair did as he was told and stood, nervous, even though he was always very proud of how he looked. But the war god was searching him for flaws, he could feel his sight piercing in through his soul. When he was finished, Malik met Altair's eyes. “I haven't seen gold eyes in one of your kind.” 

“Is that all you will comment on? I am much more than just eyes.” Malik's essence flared hot and his eyes glowed threateningly. 

“Do not criticize me, mortal. Perhaps your eyes are all I see worth looking at.” he snarled, his powerful hand clamped around Altair's throat. The man gasped and choked, trying to wriggle from his grip. 

“Please.. I meant no disrespect..” he coughed out. Malik threw him and he hit the wall. 

“You are not worthy.” He said before vanishing in a flash of light. Altair sat on the floor, panting and wide-eyed. His chest felt raw and hot from Malik's power. That was the most terrifying thing he'd ever witnessed. 

Altair put his clothes back on and nearly ran from the temple, but not before noticing that all the gold was gone that he placed at the alter. 

 

Altair sacrificed one of his sheep to Malik the next day as apology, watching the blood run down the gold dais detachedly. Nothing happened even after an hour of Altair waiting, so he went back home for the day, hoping that he hadn't angered the god who could have raiders or soldiers wage a war on him. The god who could control kings. And create swords with his burning mouth. 

The last thought made him shudder. He couldn't deny that the thought of Malik on his knees to pleasure him orally made him unbearably hard in an embarrassingly short amount of time. Or the thought of anything sexual related to that god got his blood going so fast his head spun. Malik was beautiful. And Altair was fixated on him now if he wasn't before. He'd caught the god's attention before. He would strive to do it again.

 

He knelt in front of Malik's alter and bowed his head, sending up his prayers that sounded more like a child pleading for attention rather then a man trying for a god's favor. He sacrificed another sheep and left the bloody sword by it's side, hoping another weapon would attract him. He waited for an hour to see if Malik would come again, but he didn't. Altair stood again, his knees aching from kneeling so long, and left. 

That night he had a vivid dream of the god standing over him with his burning coal eyes boring into Altair. The Eagle watched Malik pull a beautiful sword out of his mouth, sparks and fire flying from his clever tongue. 

“You try too hard,” the god hissed in his ear before setting him on fire.

Altair woke up sweating and pathetically hard, his fascination with the god of swords starting to edge scarily close to obsession already. He dragged himself out of his bed and went down to the alter. The room had a gold hue and Altair held his breath as he knelt down to pray. 

“Shouldn't you be sleeping, mortal?” Malik's voice was deep and calm and Altair relaxed, taking a breath. He looked at the god. He was golden and glorious and he still took Altair's breath. He still avoided Malik's eyes. 

“I was sleeping. You were haunting me.” He couldn't help drinking in the image of Malik's body and mouth, especially that sharp mouth. 

“Why would I bother doing that? You think I caused your dreams. Novice. I have better things to do.” Altair couldn't feel his hot energy pressing against him and he craved it. 

“Then why are you here..” Altair muttered, mostly to himself. Malik's eyes flashed and Altair was pinned to the ground by the god's powerful arms, his energy burning hot as it blazed at him. Altair almost moaned. 

“I'll rip out your treacherous throat and feed it to the dogs, you double-faced creature.” he growled, tightening the grip around Altair's neck. 

“Forgive me, please,” Altair gasped. “Cut out my tongue if it'd please you.” Malik released his throat. 

“You're doing a very poor job of earning my favor. I should make that neighboring village attack yours. Make a fire or a hurricane wipe it out for your insolence. Or I could strip you and stake you out on a rock for the buzzards to eat your eyes and loose tongue. Leave your bones as a warning.” 

“I think you like me,” Altair said, daring to look into those dark eyes again. “Otherwise you'd strike me down already, not touch me at all.” He allowed himself a small smirk. “You like a challenge.” 

Malik's bronze skin started to glow a little more, grow deeper red, and his eyes felt like they were burning Altair's soul, lighting him aflame from the inside, and they probably were. But Altair couldn't look away. He made the god really angry this time. He most likely would not get out alive. He thought about praying to the sweeter Kadar to save him. 

He was Malik's brother. Born from the mouth of the same burning serpent, but the snake's fang only caught Malik on the shoulder, missing Kadar completely. So Malik grew into a dangerous, angry god and Kadar was a gentle, kind god. It was amazing they were related. 

“Kadar doesn't waste his time on insolent servants,” Malik growled, his hand curling in Altair's short hair and pulling viciously. Altair shuddered and fought a bit against him, grabbing Malik's hand and ignoring the searing burning pain when he touched the angry god's skin. 

“Please,” he begged, tears stinging his eyes. Malik released him. 

“I am leaving. If I hear you again, I'll kill you.” He said before disappearing again, this time the light was deep red. He knew he'd messed up. He was surprised he was still alive. 

 

He burned a silent sacrifice to Malik as an apology. He hoped the god would forgive him. His heart still hadn't slowed down at all and it'd been two hours. He had to catch himself from praying to Malik a few times. He'd rather not die. He didn't so much as fail to get Malik's favor; he completely destroyed his chances of getting near him again. Maybe he should try to get close with Kadar. Good fortune and weather are always worth it. 

Altair changed a few things on the alter, thankful that they were brothers and could have similar alters. He started to pray to him, reciting all the generic ones he knew and throwing in a few of his own. He went back to his daily schedule, saving time to read up on Kadar like he had with Malik. 

The younger brother didn't seem to interact with humans as much as Malik did. He did have a bit of a history when a man prayed for his help after his wife died from pregnancy. Kadar came down and healed her and later she gave birth to a girl who grew up to save a country from getting destroyed. 

Interesting. 

“Your books have it wrong.” Altair jumped and turned to see Malik. The god wasn't glowing quite as dangerously red as when he left. 

“Please don't kill me.” Altair said, still in awe of him even though he felt torn up inside when he saw him. Malik glared at him. 

“Don't mock me. I'm giving you another chance. Don't make me regret it with that fowl tongue. I really will kill you then.” So that was it. Altair grinned. He did like him. 

He voiced this and Malik rolled his eyes. “You're irritating and mouthy. But there is something.. I don't have many followers. And less of them even know about my brother.” 

“You like me.” Altair repeated cheerfully. Malik growled. 

“The small amount is diminishing quickly. Shut your mouth before I burn it off.” Altair fidgeted, closing his mouth. Malik seemed to relax and he appeared smaller. “I have a question for you. Answer with short, to the point answers and I won't be so annoyed with you.” 

“Alright.” Altair nodded. 

“I want to know why you chose me out of all the others. Is it because of what I'm rumored to give to humans that earn my favor? Or perhaps you're protecting someone, something.” Malik was watching him closely, those burning eyes catching every detail, every passing emotion that crosses his face. Looking for lies, most likely. 

“I admire you. You're terrifying and beautiful. The other gods don't seem to have the same fire you do. I've read all the stories about you. You're cruel and hard, but your passion is awe inspiring.” Malik snorted at the end of it. 

“You don't even know if they're true. You know nothing of me.”

“Then teach me.” Altair said quickly, moving closer. “Let me see who you really are.” Malik's gaze darkened and he reached over to touch Altair's forehead, his hot touch leaving the mortal speechless. 

“Close your eyes.” 

And Altair did. 

 

_He saw a flash of gold and black. He bolted after it, his voice singing high over the desert. He didn't have wings, but he was flying. He was all muscle and strength, pure power. He moved faster, his tongue lolling out the side, his tail straight out._

_The beast before him was fast; he couldn't quite keep up. He pushed himself faster and leapt, his mouth open and his paws reaching for the beast. He missed and got a face full of sand. He snorted and watched the beast dart away. Defeated, he trotted back to his master, panting hard in the harsh light of the sun._

_His master patted his head with a dark, dirty hand and he licked it, earning himself a laugh and a soft cuff to the side of his large head._

_“You're going to get eaten if you keep tha' up.” Master said something he didn't understand, but he wagged his tail and pushed his hand to get attention._

_The man just laughed and dragged him back into his cage. He only whined once._

_He was let out again and he sniffed around before going to search for the beast again, looking back at his master. The man wasn't paying attention. He ran, nose to the ground to sniff that creature out. He caught it's trail and moved faster, howling out his triumph. His master would be proud. He'd reward him._

_He caught the beast, but only after it snarled and slashed at him with big scary claws and ripped open his shoulder. He killed it quickly. He dragged the dead beast back to his master, ignoring the horrible pain in his shoulder as flies started swarming the wound and eating at him. He'd get the creature to his master._

_It hurt. His sharp mind was starting to cloud with heat and pain and he just kept dragging it, not stopping for miles until he finally got home, collapsing at his master's feet. He did good. He'd be rewarded. He looked up at his master blearily. The man wasn't telling him he was a good boy. He wasn't smiling._

_He laid his head back down. He was tired. He hoped his master would give him some water. He lifted his head back right as his master swung his sword down on his head._

_He was.. he'd been a good boy.. He'd.. he had pleased his master.. right?_

 

Altair was pulled out of the vision as the image faded out and he sat on the floor, gasping for breath as he fought back tears. “Why.. why would you show me that? You really are a cruel bastard, aren't-”

“It was me.” Malik cut in, annoyed. “In a past life.” Altair blinked. 

“You were an asshole in your past lives too?” Malik scowled and cuffed him. 

“I was the dog, you imbecile.” he growled. 

“Oh.” He wasn't sure how he felt about that. He'd never heard of the gods being anything other than gods, or even having past lives. “You were a dog.” Malik rolled his eyes. 

“Altair, you've reached new levels of stupid.” Altair huffed and looked away. 

“Leave me alone.” Malik snorted. 

“I should leave. Or maybe I should feed you to my dogs.” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “You're the one who wants my attention.” 

“That was before I realized how big of a dick you-”

“Have? Yes, it's a good size, I'd say.” Malik cut off, his eyes narrowing at Altair. The mortal blushed. “You'll never see it.”

“What, because I'm not good enough for you?” Altair huffed. Malik looked at him lazily. 

“No, because you're an irritating idiot who thinks a knife is enough to get on my good side. And thinks a war god can be won over by your 'charming smile'.” The god's power flared a bit. 

“You talk too much.” Altair said, swinging around so he could get close to Malik and kiss him. The god froze and Altair wondered if this was a dumber idea then he thought. And then he was shoved back and pinned to a wall by a wave of hot power. Yep. Bad idea. Stupid idea. The worst idea since-

Malik kissed him. Oh. The god pushed past Altair's robes and the mortal gasped when he wrapped a burning hand around his half-hard cock. Oh. Okay. Altair melted into the touches. Wait. He wasn't going to sit back and let Malik take him. He reached forward to grope the god back and Mal made a very interesting noise before swatting his hand away. 

“Stay still and behave.” he growled, gripping Altair's throat. The mortal might have whined. His cock was aching now and he didn't remember what his name was anymore. 

Malik made him forget his name. And see stars. And see visions in his head as the god's white hot energy pressed hard and unforgiving into his soul, searing him, marking him. 

_Altair saw the frail little spirit of a dog convulsing in pain and the frantic 'Why? Why??' and still the barbed loyalty to his master. He watched it coil into a little ball of white-gold and suffer in silence inside itself until a celestial light in the shape of a snake lunged at the agonized dog spirit and swallowed it whole. The gold slid down the snake-shape and when it hit the snake's belly, it blazed red and anger and power and the snake spit it out again, it's fang catching the spirit and ripping it in two. The more damaged one grew more red and more hot and the anguish from the dogs betrayal turned to mad anger and the spirit roared, sucking in smaller spirits in it's quaking anger._

_The smaller and cleaner half burned hot, but then cooled to a gentle purple. Lonely compassion and mildness forgotten underneath the pain glowed from the smaller and it grew from kind spirits feeding it._

_The larger one was out of control and mad with rage, no longer half of anything, but a whole being now, having sucked in so many spirits. It was in the shape of a giant fiery wolf with burning coal eyes. It grew and grew as it went, draining everything around it. It roared it's agony and went to snap up it's brother, but the smaller violet puppy leaned up and licked its nose._

_The wolf-beast stopped and stared down at it's brother and the red drained from it, gold shining out from underneath the dark anger._

_Malik nuzzled his brother, his coal eyes not quite so wild. Kadar pushed his flank into Malik, sharing his warm compassion. They were picked up by the Mother of All and each kissed by her sweet blue lips, the azure energy shifting from her to each of them and coiling in with Malik's red and gold and Kadar's silver and purple. She blessed them with humanoid shapes and gave them names. The soothing blue energy she gave Malik burned out fast with his short temper, but Kadar retained some and it turned his eyes a rare blue. He stayed sweet and gentle while his brother was loyal and valiant._

_Malik chose to spend some time on earth to do as he pleased and he earned the second-name Al-Sayf. He would return to his celestial home and teach his brother what he learned sometimes. Malik chose a human once every so often to be intimate with, only if they were worthy, and he shared his vast power with them. When they died, he mourned and stayed at home for a while until his brother pulled him out of it._

Altair was pulled out of the vision as Malik came, his eyes glowing gold. He looked more beautiful then when Altair had ever seen him, power rippling out from his skin, light radiating as he released. Altair suddenly felt drained and he slumped against him, not realizing he'd came twice. 

“Come on,” Malik said gently, picking him up. Altair let him carry his dead weight to his bed. The god set him down and Altair tried to pull him down with him, but failed. Malik ran his thumb over Altair's bottom lip and then left, leaving the mortal feeling cold and empty and strangely unsated.


	2. Of Swords

He recalled a heretic a couple years ago that tried to stop the worship of the gods. “They're demons! Their touch is addicting and will drive you mad! Don't let them in, they'll enslave you!” 

The heretic turned out to be a mad man escaped from a home and he was calmed down easily with a couple bats to the back of the head. Nobody really bothered to care that the gods might be 'demons' or that they'd become enslaved, that's what gods do, yea? 

Two weeks from the night Malik finally touched him and Altair was burning for more and damned if he didn't wonder if the crazy man was right. Malik hadn't returned since that time and no matter how many stupid sheep he slaughtered for him, the god refused to come back. 

Altair couldn't leave the house much. It was a bit ridiculous he couldn't even walk halfway to the alter before he doubled over in pain from blue balls. And it wasn't like he didn't try to fix it. Hell, he stayed inside for three days to try to fix it. 

He tried praying to Malik. He tried pleading to Malik. He even tried praying to Kadar. Nothing. There was one thing he came up with that would probably work, but it would end in Malik getting angry, so it was a last resort. 

Another two weeks and Altair was perched on top of Malik's alter, naked. He was desperate. He raised his favorite knife above his chest and took a deep breath. 

“I know you wouldn't do it, you know. You're far too arrogant for that. What do you want?” Altair let out the breath and smiled. Malik was here. He would probably fuck him into the next century if he goaded him right. 

“Oh, I don't know. An explanation maybe. Some attention. It's been a month. I've pretty much been hard for the entire time.” Altair huffed, sliding off the alter. A small smirk played across Malik's lips. 

“Serves you right. You don't touch a god unless asked to.” The god had a strange hue about him. Not his usual gold. Altair watched him carefully. 

“I'll make it up to you.” Altair tried. There was an odd light in Malik's eyes. Another out of character smirk. 

“On your knees then.” Altair watched him. 

“You're not Malik.” A wide smile. Full of fangs. 

“Not exactly.” Malik's face melted from the demon and it stood before him, it's ugly smirking face twisted to show it's sharp teeth. Red eyes replaced Malik's dark ones and Altair felt on edge. 

“Who are you? And where's Malik?” Altair asked lowly, not wanting to anger the thing. The smirk widened. 

“Your kind call me Hittak. Mortals should not call Gods by their first name unless they're his mate.” it's hissing syllables grated on Altair's ears. A Hittak was a sort of imp or demon that could take the form of anything it pleased and enjoyed playing stupid tricks on humans and gods and leading them to their demise. 

“Where is he?” Altair demanded again, gripping his knife tightly. Two sets of eyelids blinked at him, reminding him of a frog. But this creature was more snake-like in personality. The Hittak moved closer and the mortal noted it had cloven hoofed feet. 

“The others aren't happy,” it sang, cackling. It swung a long limb across Altair's shoulders, pulling him down to it's level to hiss in his ear. “He's locked up where you can't reach. He can't even hear your prayers. You're alone and you'll die that way now that he's touched you.” it jerked away before Altair could react and bounced around gleefully. The mortal felt sick. 

“Why did they lock him up?” He asked, hoping the beast would continue to find amusement with tormenting him and would answer. It paused to tilt it's ugly head and bare those teeth in a nasty grin, stepping towards him slowly. 

“Why? Can't imagine why he likes you if you can't even figure out why. It's because he got attached.” suddenly it moved too quickly and it had it's claws buried in Altair's hair, pulling his head down. “Is there anything in there at all, mortal? Will it echo if I scream into your ear? Will you bleed if I split open your belly? Blocks of wood don't bleed and that's about your worth, isn't it?” 

“Enough,” a growling voice behind him should have made him quake with fear, but he felt relief. He hadn't been abandoned. The Hittak recoiled and stepped several paces back, curling into itself with fear.

“F-forgive me.. I meant no harm, sayyid.. I-” It was cut off by Malik's eyes glowing an angry red. 

“Impersonating me and then harassing my follower and telling him lies? You're lucky if I don't end you where you stand.” Malik was beautiful when his anger wasn't turned towards Altair. The mortal observed them from an outsider's stand point and he found he liked it. He loved how Malik's energy hazed them all in red and the Hittak seemed to shrink as it cowered under the war god's wrath. 

“He will hear of this.” The simple sentence brought pure terror to the Hittak's eyes and it's skin started to smoke before Altair heard a small pop and the beast was gone. He blinked dumbly and looked around. 

“What happened?” Altair asked after a while. Malik closed his eyes and sighed. 

“It's a defense mechanism. When they get scared enough, they vanish and turn up three days later as a frog. They need to swallow a spirit to become whole again.” he said simply, almost as if reciting something from a history book. He wasn't the same. Altair approached him cautiously, reaching out to touch his shoulder. Malik's skin burned him and he yelped and pulled it back. The god didn't seem to notice. 

“What did they do to you?” Altair breathed, staring at the god. Malik turned cold eyes towards him. 

“You have no rights to ask me anything, mortal.” He said dispassionately. Altair felt an odd pain in his chest. He moved and caught Malik's face and kissed him, fighting to stay there even though it burned hot and felt like it was melting him right there. 

_“Malik Al-Sayf. Do you understand the consequences of this?”_

_“I do.” his jaw was set as he kept his eyes on the floor. He would blow up the other god if he could._

_“Will you agree to destroy the mortal in question if we deem the connection between you two too dangerous?” Malik flicked his eyes up and clenched his teeth. He could feel his energy building up and everything was tinted in red. Destroy you instead perhaps._

_“I do not. It's my duty to protect all of my followers. Just as it is their's to bow before me”_

_“Then we will have to go forth with your punishment. Do you accept your fate?”_

_“Aye. I accept that you are ancient and no longer powerful enough to keep us in line so you resort to brainwashing. So be it.” He remembered Altair's gold eyes and felt brave for a moment._

_“Then be condemned and suffer for your insolence,” The other god hissed. Malik looked up at him._

_“Then be stupid and destroy everything I have. I was born of emotion. To steal it from me is to steal my very essence. I hope you die painfully when it's your time.”_

The god hesitated and then pushed him off easily. “Touch me again and I will burn you alive.” Altair stared at him. 

“They broke you.” Altair breathed. “They took everything.. they-” 

“Quiet. You know nothing.” 

“But they-” Malik flat out growled and Altair shut up. Malik stared at Altair a minute and his eyes softened just slightly and Altair realized Malik was _faking_ it. 

“Do not try to contact me again.” Malik vanished before Altair could respond and the mortal almost whined. He just wanted some stupid questions answered. That's all. He wanted to spend a stupid amount of his life with the god.

 

Malik watched his human from afar. He paced his quarters and wondered how he was to get out of this. He was angry and he shouldn't have to listen to some old god who was alive when there were terrible beasts that roamed this planet. 

He sat down and picked up the dagger Altair first presented to him. He twirled it in his fingers, admiring it. War, perhaps. He was the God of war. He could most likely beat the old gods with pure strategy. His strategic skills were flawless. He could kill them all. He wouldn't have to answer to anyone. 

He needed to get better. He needed to be perfect. He was lower than a god if he was not perfect. Malik stood and left his rooms, stalking down the hall as if he were a king, standing tall and cold and his energy was blazing hot. 

He went to Earth and flattened a city. He destroyed every human he found and killed every life form in the area. Then he answered a prayer of a general and helped him completely obliterate the other army. Malik honed his skills carefully. He punished humans who spoke against him. 

He touched Altair's dreams sometimes to let the human know he was still there. He showed him images of his plans, just vague flashes of scenes to let him know what was going on. 

Altair did not pray to him while Malik trained. He understood that Malik needed some time and he gave it to him. The war god worked hard to perfect himself, paying keen attention to detail, making no mistakes. 

Flashbacks to when he was a dog spun around in his mind and he pondered loyalty and love. He pondered why those things caused war when they themselves are innocent and pure. Along with sex, anger, and greed on the other side of it. Humans were petty. The females were said to be the more emotional ones, but it's the males who mostly start wars. He twirled the knife again. Emotions. If he were to let go.. No. Letting go would mean.. Perhaps he should immerse himself instead. Touch the minds of humans and draw power from their anger. 

Malik stared at the humans fighting below him, the starving rage in their faces, the wild, wide-open eyes. It's all about emotion, this game. He smiled and moved a pawn forward. He would win this.

 

Altair was waiting. For something more than a tainted dream, more than a quiet voice in his head, from Malik. He saw horrific images in his sleep from the god and he knew a little bit of what he was planning. Altair wondered if Malik would ever run out of that brilliant rage that fueled him.

Altair walked down the market street, eyeing the shopkeepers trying to get his attention with their flashy colors and loud voices, calling out to him about their wares. He pushed through the crowd carefully, not wanting to alert any guards in a bad mood. 

A sign caught his eye. A blacksmith's. He turned sharply and entered the shop, smiling to himself. Maybe he could help Malik after all.

 

Six days later Altair walked out of the smith's shop with a carefully wrapped package and about 6,000 less pounds than he had before. He walked home cautiously, excited to finally be of some help for Malik. 

He went up to the alter and unwrapped it, setting the glorious blade on the stone. He knelt down and sent up a short prayer for Malik, just to let him know it was here for him. 

The sword was a gorgeous deep ebony with inlaid gems in the hilt and a long line of silver along the back. It was long and curved with a vicious serrated tip, made to tear and break. It was heavy, far too heavy for Altair, but for a god, it would be nothing. The sword was specially enchanted with herbs and the steel was melded with diamond, making it strong and flexible. 

Altair turned to leave when he was struck with a sharp pain in the back of his head, shutting down his vision and plugging him into a different world. He suddenly saw Malik, but he was different. Altair stared, awed by his beauty. The god was wearing gold armor and his aura was blazing hot. He wielded his sword with fury, cutting down his enemies and incinerating them with his powerful heat. Malik leapt and arched in the air, his skin splitting to give way to breathtaking blazing wings, lifting the beautiful god high as he struck down another hundred. He was glorious and bright and Altair couldn't breathe. His eyes glowed in an eery gold, almost like something had taken him over. Malik opened his mouth and Altair felt like this was the end. The god said the Words and there was a vicious red light and Altair was torn from the vision, gasping, his head pounding. 

He was right. 

 

Malik was not used to the feeling of heavy wings on his back. They weren't covered in fire anymore, but they would be hot to touch for a human still. He shuffled his feathers uncomfortably and shifted. He stepped over a body, touching their chest to release their soul. It was out of pity. It wasn't human's fault that they lusted for war. The old gods made them that way. For entertainment. Another sin that blackens them. 

He gazed around. It was an odd feeling, standing here and observing the trapped spirits of humans thrum in their rib cages. He felt detached and he took another step, pausing for a moment. He turned. Altair. The mortal still prayed, even after everything. His love was strong; untainted. Malik felt that he found a good human in the midst of bad ones. The inner dog in him yearns for Altair's touch again, for his comfort and steadiness. Malik wanted to stay beside him, pledge to him only his undying loyalty, take Altair as his own. He wanted it badly, but he had to do this first. 

Malik tilted his head up to look at the sky and he spread his heavy wings. He pushed outward with his power and they ignited, burning hot and bright as he took flight, shifting his form midair to something smaller. He was a phoenix, blazing brilliantly in the sky as he flew. Pride swelled in his chest and he opened his beak to let loose a scream of joy. He pushed the feeling towards Altair. He wanted to share it with him. 

He let the battlefield burn. 

 

Altair felt an odd sense of happiness fill him before another vision struck him and the sight of a beautiful flaming bird filled his visage. He smiled. Malik was perfect in every form. The bird seemed to swell. Altair furrowed his eyebrows. The sight warped and then Malik was tearing apart, his lovely feathers ripping from him. Altair stared in horror as he started to plummet, his power burning up his small body quickly. Malik hit the ground and stopped moving. A pulse shocked it's way through the ground from Malik, lighting the entire field on fire. Bodies burned like papyrus and the smell of burnt hair filled his nostrils. 

After the fire burned itself out, Altair searched the ground for the burnt lump of feathers that was left of the brilliant god. He couldn't find him. A triumphant roar sounded behind Altair and he turned to see Malik as a dragon. He was breathtaking. His scales shimmered in purples and reds and his eyes were gold. Altair knew Malik could shapeshift, but he never dreamed that he would take this form. Malik was glorious. His strong muscles rippled underneath hard-as-steel scales and Altair felt his breath leave him again. 

Malik touched down and tilted his clever little head up to roar. It made Altair's bones chatter and sent a chill up his spine. He was beautiful and terrifying. Malik turned his gold eyes towards him and Altair found himself closer than he thought he had been to the beast Malik had become. The god touched his delicate nose to Altair's forehead and a searing pain brought him screaming back to reality. 

Altair touched his head. There was a burn there. A perfect little circle at the center of his forehead. Malik.. had marked him. He wasn't sure what that meant, but it made him a little nervous. He prayed to him, making known his worries and thanking Malik for everything. 

Malik didn't respond. 

 

Malik always felt the freest when he took on his dragon form. He felt as if his soul was at it's peak. He wasn't compressed. He looked at Altair in his alter, noted the blade on the table. There was something.. different about it. Malik cloaked himself and vanished from the field. 

Malik arrived silently. Altair had left already, but the sword was still there. He picked it up, pleased with how the weight felt in his hand. He felt something odd coming from the sword and he flared his energy to feel it closer. It.. it seemed to have energy inside it. The sword pulsed at him when he touched the energy and it melded nicely with his own. He pulsed back at it and the blade glowed hot for a second. Interesting. He flared his power and it burst into flame. He smiled. 

He took some of his hair and wove himself a hilt, strengthening it with his hot breath. He slid the sword into it and hung it on his side. He touched the table and burned a symbol into it to show Altair his thanks. 

Malik left then and found an abandoned training area from one of the villages he destroyed. He swung his new sword, getting a feel for it. He cut through some bamboo shoots and the rice sack dummies that were hung around him. The blade's energy hummed as he went, seeming to sing happily. Malik noted that the humming increased the faster he moved and sang with it, sharing his joy with the sword's energy. 

He stood in the center, looking around at all the training posts that he had cut down. The sword silenced and he sheathed it. 

He was ready.


	3. Radiant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Altair is taken and the battle starts.

Pain. Everything hurt. Breathing hurt. His heart beating hurt. Moving hurt. Living hurt. A light flickered slowly over his closed eyelids and he shuddered in agony. He tried to move his head, but it throbbed violently. He wanted to sleep. To escape. Maybe to die. 

Peace. A numbing feeling washed over him and he could breathe again. He dared not move in case the pain came back. He cracked open his eyes. A light swung slowly back and forth above him. His core still ached from the aftereffects of the pain, but it was bearable. 

He sat up. His back was sore. His belly was sore. He looked around the room, blinking in the dim light. Where the hell was he? The room was dark and musty. He dragged himself off the dirty floor and panted with effort. His head spun and he leaned against the grimy wall for support. 

His legs were sore and didn't want to hold his weight, but he forced himself to stay up. He felt like he was forgetting something. Something.. important.. His head throbbed dangerously and he swayed, his vision blurring. Altair breathed out the war god's name before losing consciousness. 

 

Malik was nervous. He was prepared as much as he'd ever be, but he didn't feel like it was enough. He shifted in his armor and flared his power to harden the steel again. He had hidden himself before he started and he was well-acquainted with his new blade. He had his strongest armor and he had perfected his strategy. Malik was ready, but he was unsure he could win, even with all the preparations. 

He heard a whisper, like sound being carried on the cold wind. His name felt like a soft caress, an almost pleading tone. It came and left so quickly he almost didn't hear it. Malik touched the hilt of his sword and pushed out a soothing warmth to calm the panicked voice. He'd win this, don't worry. 

He paused. Was it Altair? Was Altair in pain somewhere? Locked away where Malik couldn't see him? Malik looked around for him in his usual places and he couldn't see his beloved follower. Where was he?

'Altair,' he called out, concerned. He needed to strike before the spell wore off. But Altair was missing. Malik wasn't sure what he should do. He put more energy into the spell. 'I'll come back for you, habibi.' he sent out to Altair, unsure of where he was. He spread his wings and lifted himself off the dusty ground, anxious to get started. An eye-blink passed and he stood at the start of the God's realm. He lifted his hand and spirits came out of their hiding places to rub up against him in greeting like little dogs. He filled them with energy with a touch and they swelled fat and wriggled around him happily. They were the weaker spirits, the ones the gods rejected to take care of. Malik had taken them as his own in secret and cared for them, growing them slowly. They were grateful and would fight with him if he asked. 

And he did ask. He fed them his own fiery anger and they grew stronger and tinted red, their sightless eyes glowing pink. He took them and hid them on himself, their heavy weight warming him even if his chest felt hollow and cold. He closed his eyes and shifted, his human skin leaving him and the hard scales of his dragon body grew through, rippling as his muscles distorted and shifted and grew. He let out a powerful roar as he finished changing, lashing his tail. 

He flew, his strong wings carrying him higher than any other winged creature could reach. He kept above the clouds with his spirit friends huddling against his hot body. At the start of the inner forest, he let loose his breath on it, scorching everything in the area. The fire spread fast, devouring the spirits that the other gods cared for, their screams falling on careless ears as Malik destroyed all of it. His own little spirits went down after the fire and absorbed the excess energy floating around the burned trees. He lifted up again and they followed, forming to him again. He swooped down on another section and took that out too. The fire spread fast in both directions now, burning down everything in the circle of trees that surrounded the god's sanctuary. The spirits couldn't leave as they were bound there. A shortsighted decision made by old gods. 

Malik whispered a spell in draconic speech after the forest was gone, his spirits growing fast on the dead ones' power. The gods were starting to come out now, but it was too late. The forest was gone. And so were the spirits. 

“Who are you? Show yourself, coward!” One of the elders called out, his aura tinting dark. Malik roared and his spirits floated down to surround the Gods, their kind faces twisted in anger, little mouths open, eyes wide. They reached out with their spindle arms to prod at the Gods' power, whispering incoherently at them. 

The elders shifted, moving into a defensive stance while the lesser gods muttered amongst themselves. Malik could feel the doubt from them. They were doubting that their leaders would protect them. 

Malik flew down and landed behind the ring of his spirits and roared at the gods, flaring his power angrily. He saw some of the lesser gods shudder. His spirits changed their delicate spindles to sharp needles, hissing their displeasure. His displeasure. Malik growled a command and the spirits shrieked, charging forward to spear what gods they could before they were destroyed. Malik moved then and went after the elders, snapping at throats and whipping them with his tail and beating them with his powerful wings, flinging spells around like fireworks on certain days the humans celebrated. 

They fought back hard, deflecting his blows and slashing at him with spears and swords. He killed the first two and then moved onto the third, the highest leader of them. The lesser gods backed off when they figured out they weren't on the winning side and went into hiding.

He was the god of the skies. He was tall and thin and his beard was long and white. He was fast, but Malik could take him. 

“Malik, please. Lets talk about this.” the god pleaded, dodging a blast of fire from Malik's jaws. The war god was past talking to and he went for another blow. The sky god deflected his tail, but Malik's claws caught his shoulder and tore his ornate robes. “I have your human! Enough, or he dies!” 

Malik stopped dead and his dark eyes burned like coals as he stared down at the sky god. He had Altair. Malik opened his mouth to demand where the human was, but all that came out was an outraged snarl. He lunged and pinned the sky god to the ground, his scales burning hot with his anger.

“Please, just a word. I want to help you, child. That's all.” he coughed. Malik growled. 'Child' rung in his ears. 

“Where is he?” Malik growled, curling his claws into the other god's sides. He yelled in pain, scrabbling at Malik's talons. 

“In the dungeons,” He coughed. “The ones we made underground on Earth. Please.”

“Show me.” Malik growled and picked the god up, lifting off the ground and starting off towards Earth, his powerful wings ablaze. Malik allowed the sky god to lead him to a place in the desert and then shifted to his human form, his knife pressed to the other god's back as they descended down into the dungeon. 

Altair was in the third cell, broken and bloody on the cold floor. Malik's heart ached to see him like that and he shoved the sky god into the gate. 

“Unlock it.” The other did and Malik moved past him to kneel beside the body of his lover. “Altair.” He checked the human's pulse. His heart was beating slowly, but still beating. He turned to the other god. “Heal him or I'll end your life painful and slow.” 

The sky god sighed, but acquiesced, a light blue light flooding the dank cell. Malik watched carefully, his anger cooling enough for him to be rational again. Altair coughed and stirred and Malik sighed in relief. He touched his human's face and he felt himself grow warm with fondness when Altair's eyes opened. 

“Malik,” Altair breathed, sitting up. He looked at the other god and flinched. “What's he doing here?” 

“He led me to you. Don't worry about it. How do you feel?” Malik touched his face and neck, checking him for flesh wounds. Altair leaned into the touches. 

“Better than the last time I woke up. I think he damaged my spine. My legs don't want to work.” He frowned and rubbed his thigh, looking over nervously at the sky god. Malik growled and turned to the god.

“Fix it. I am not afraid of stripping your skin off with this knife.” Malik threatened, his power flaring. 

“I'm not sure I can-” Malik pressed the knife to the other god's throat, watching him coldly. 

“Now.” The sky god took a long breath and started weaving a spell, nervous under Malik's angry gaze. Altair flinched when the spell touched him and Malik watched, sending a prayer to the Goddess that Altair would walk again and be okay. 

Malik suddenly felt dizzy and a blue light, brighter than the sky god's, filled the room. Altair whimpered and Malik looked around for him, feeling disoriented. The light hurt his eyes and he couldn't see. Suddenly the light turned gold and then Malik could see Altair, not just his physical body, but his entire self, his bright soul and all his wounds and everything. He cried out and wings burst out from his shoulder blades; beautiful golden wings that made Malik ache inside. Then Altair stood tall and beautiful, so devastatingly beautiful, and he glowed gold, gorgeous intricate armor replacing his rags. 

She made him a God, he realized. Malik felt pinned in place. He'd never ask for so much from Her, the Mother-Of-All. He thought about asking for forgiveness when he felt Her sweet touch and felt comforted. It was a gift from Her. He relaxed and thanked Her and then Her light left and the sky god was gone, but Altair was alive and well. And a god. 

Malik stared at him. His skin glowed slightly more gold than it did before and his eyes were brighter than ever. He was beautiful. Breathtaking. 

“Altair,” he breathed, walking over to him. Altair smiled at him. 

“Mal.” Altair felt like sunlight and energy when he touched him. They embraced and Malik ran his fingers through Altair's wings. 

“We should leave. I'm sick of this place,” Malik said, pulling away. Altair nodded and they walked out, hand in hand.


	4. Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some hot sex in this chapter (really, it's just hot sex) and some gross fluff garbage, but here you go.

Altair kissed him sweetly and Malik sighed, returning the kiss with a nip. He was trying to be patient, but it wasn't in his nature to be. Altair's touch felt like tiny little shocks of static electricity on his skin and Malik felt his heart jump when the former human slid his hands over a particularly soft spot. 

Altair took his time, mouthing Malik's neck, touching him carefully, with respect. He still wasn't used to not having to breathe and hot puffs of air sometimes hit Malik, making him shiver. He pinched Malik's nipple gently and the god arched, his lips parting to let out a soft sound. 

Altair's eyes had an unearthly glow to them now and his new-found power emanated from him like a golden halo, felt like sparks when it touched Malik's. It was now that Malik would allow himself to be taken by him. No more a mere mortal, but something in between that and a god. That was the Goddess' gift to them. 

He was breathtaking. Malik watched Altair move, his scarred mouth touching his skin in little burning patterns that made Malik dizzy with want. Altair moved down him, his beautiful eyes never leaving Malik's as he kissed the god's body, stopping briefly to nip at Malik's hip and then finally reached Malik's cock. Altair admired it for a bit, curling his long fingers around it and stroking it before dipping his head down to taste him. Malik sighed, curling his fingers into the sheets and then groaned when Altair took him into his mouth and sucked, his clever tongue chasing after the god's flavor. 

Altair bobbed his head down and Malik hissed, grabbing onto Altair's short hair and pulling, arching up into his sweltering mouth. Altair pulled up, his lips and tongue dragging up Malik's cock and twisting around the head before moving back down, making Malik's head spin. He moaned and Altair sucked him harder, digging his fingers into Malik's thighs. Malik glowed under Altair's tongue and touch, his power flaring out to envelop Altair in dizzying warmth and flooding his senses. Altair bobbed his head enthusiastically, sucking and tracing along every groove and vein on Malik's cock over and over until Malik was so close his entire body shuddered and Altair pulled off him, licking his lips to catch any last taste of the god he could before moving up to kiss him. 

Malik had to take a few seconds to collect himself before he slid his hands up his lover and returned the kiss, spreading his thighs so Altair could nestle himself between them. Altair's hands were everywhere, tugging at Malik's nipples, tracing his hip, cradling his head. Altair reached down then and probed at Malik's entrance, earning a low, breathy sound from the god. He pressed inside after some methodical circles traced around the hole and Malik's eyelashes fluttered. Malik used his power to ease the way and Altair blushed when his finger slid in with a quiet, wet sound. 

Malik's dick was flagging, so Altair curled his finger, rubbing his walls and brushing against the spot that made Malik gasp and buck his hips up. Altair pulled his finger out and pushed two back in and Malik's spine snapped straight and he let out a growl. Altair rubbed at his prostate, leaning down to kiss Malik as he worked him open. The god was panting and his powerful body was pushing back into Altair's fingers wantonly and Altair was aching and dripping onto the bed, wanting nothing more than to stuff his dick into Malik and drown out everything else. 

“Do it, then,” Malik growled, and he bucked back into Altair before getting impatient and sitting up, shoving Altair onto his back. Altair stared up at him, his mouth opening and closing like he wanted to say something, but Malik kissed the idiot and straddled him. 

“Malik,” Altair panted when the god grabbed his dick and lifted himself up to sit on it. The formal mortal dropped his head back and whimpered, staring at where his cock was disappearing into Malik's hot ass, Altair's mouth gaping at the intensity of it all, Malik's face contorting into something that shouldn't be allowed by anyone. Altair wasn't sure if he'd rather fuck up into Malik or just let the god ride him off into the sunset. He settled for a little of both, letting Malik slide down and up a beat before thrusting up and drawing out fucking fantastic sounds that went straight to his dick and oh god he could see Malik's blazing hot aura as he moved, rolling his hips down on Altair and Altair forgetting that he was supposed to wait a beat and the rhythm went off kilter. 

Malik's hands groped at Altair's chest, panting and staring down at Altair with the hottest expression Altair had ever seen, his cock leaking onto Altair's stomach and making a mess, but Malik was a fucking beast, his ass swallowing up Altair's dick until it was so hot the mortal couldn't breathe and then lifting himself up just to drop back down. And oh, the way Malik licked his lips was so predatory Altair wasn't sure he was the one taking the god anymore. Altair pulled him down to kiss him, a mash of tongues and teeth and lips and Malik rolled his hips hard and he looked like a snake the way he moved, all muscle and coordinated movement, and fuck Altair saw stars.

Malik pulled himself back up and clamped his thighs onto Altair before rolling them. Altair moaned and squirmed under him, bucking. Malik grabbed his face and full out _growled_ at him, “move,” and Altair did, fucking in hard and fast and dropping his head on Malik's damp chest to concentrate on not coming yet. But Malik was still a thunderous force under him, moving his hips up to meet Altair's with every fucking thrust, driving him deeper, and Malik's legs were wrapped tightly around him, more or less controlling how fast he goes. 

Altair was so close his balls were starting to hurt and Malik suddenly clenched around him, his whole body shuddering as he came, a strangled yell of Altair's name ripping out of the god's throat and then Altair lost it, coming so hard he passed out. 

He blinked slowly when he came to and Malik was sitting up on the edge of the bed, looking at something in his hand. He sat up and wrapped his arms around the god, setting his head on Malik's shoulder. 

“What's that?” Altair asked, his fingers curling around Malik's arm. The god hums and leans back against his lover. He opens his hand to show Altair a small red gem embedded in gold with a thin chain. 

“The first thing I ever made. It was for a woman that I fell in love with. I wanted to win her and I didn't care that she was mortal. She hated it.” Malik snorted and Altair looked at his face to see it graced with a small smile. “She hated most things, though.” 

“She sounds perfect for you,” Altair snorted. Malik elbowed him. 

“What does that say of you, then?” Malik said gruffly, holding up the gem. His voice was gentler, “I want you to have it.” 

Altair took it and put it around his neck. “Do I look beautiful?” He kissed Malik and smiled. The god turned around and kissed him properly. 

“You always do.”


End file.
